


Still my watch

by curly184



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Episode: s01e06 Bastogne, Foxhole Fic, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24883507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curly184/pseuds/curly184
Summary: Heffron reaches up a hand to rub absently at his nose, still looking straight ahead and barely acknowledging Eugene's presence. Noticing a smudge of red on Heffron's palm, Eugene grabs for his hand. "Hey, how'd you do that?" he asks, inspecting the deep gash across Heffron's palm. Dirty and bloody and ice cold as Eugene holds it between his own freezing hands.
Relationships: Babe Heffron/Eugene Roe, Eugene Roe/Smokey Gordon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Still my watch

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my sister who, on her first watch of Band of Brothers, commented that Eugene calls Smokey by his nickname. I didn't believe her. But after a re-watch and consulting the transcripts on thosewahlbergmen.com (which seems to have vanished?), I had to conclude she is right. Doc Roe yells 'Smoke!' after Smokey is hit in the Bastogne episode, right before Smokey says 'I can't feel my legs, Gene.'
> 
> This has been done to death, but here's my take. Not slashy in the slightest - sorry!

"Everything okay?" Eugene asks, sliding into the OP next to Heffron; exhausted and weary, and feeling a bone deep numbness from more than just the unrelenting cold. When the red head doesn't reply, he tries again, "Babe?"  
  
"Yeah." Short and sharp and unlike Heffron, who is usually so bright and cheerful. But Eugene can't hold that against him. They have all changed from their time in the forest.  
  
Heffron reaches up a hand to rub absently at his nose, still looking straight ahead and barely acknowledging Eugene's presence. Noticing a smudge of red on Heffron's palm, Eugene grabs for his hand. "Hey, how'd you do that?" he asks, inspecting the deep gash across Heffron's palm. Dirty and bloody and ice cold as Eugene holds it between his own freezing hands.  
  
"You did that," comes the short, almost angry sounding, reply.  
  
He pulls Heffron's hand closer, brow creasing with worry and confusion. He has no recollection of injuring Heffron. There seems to be a lot he can’t recall lately. And why would Heffron lie about how he got the injury?  
  
"I'll fix it up." He rummages in his pockets for a bandage or some fabric - anything that could be used as a makeshift bandage. He comes up with Renee's blue scarf and stills as he holds it, remembering the last time he saw her alive.  
  
_Eugene, are you alright?_ And then she was gone, responding to someone's call for help.  
  
He had just brought Smokey into the aid station, had just told that other medic - Jones - that he hadn't given Smokey any morphine. He didn't need to, Smokey was paralysed. He couldn't feel a thing.  
  
_Smokey.  
_  
And therein lay the problem.  
  
"Hey, Gene, you called me Babe!" Heffron's excited, happy words interrupt his thoughts.  
  
"I did? When?" he asks, chest tightening at the thought he was making the same mistake again.  
  
"Just now," Heffron replies with a grin.  
  
"Babe," he says, testing out the name, his tongue curling around it, pulling out the long vowels. To his surprise, it feels familiar, comfortable.  
  
"I guess I did," he says, trying not to show how big a deal it is, trying not to admit to himself how big a deal it is. But it is a big deal. Eugene Roe doesn't call the men by their nicknames. He doesn't even call the men by their first names. He addresses the men by their rank - captain, sergeant, private - or by their surname.   
  
He hadn't realised he had been doing it, until the nickname slid easily from his lips as he ran to where Smokey lay wounded and bleeding, crying out to Eugene that he couldn't feel his legs. Somewhere along the road between Toccoa and Bastonge, Corporal Walter Gordon had become Smokey. And Eugene had broken the first and most important rule of combat medics. _Don't get too close._  
  
Smokey, it appeared, had been the exception to that rule. Maybe it stemmed from when Sobel tormented the man back in Toccoa. Or maybe it was because Smokey was always so friendly, laughing and joking with Eugene the way he laughed and joked with everyone else, threatening to write one of his infamous poems about Easy Company's medic. Maybe it was the way Smokey gambled for morphine to pass on to Eugene in a game of cards, when the other men gambled for cigarettes, coffee or an extra blanket. Maybe it was the way he would always share his hot coffee when Eugene passed by his foxhole. Or how he always tried to point Eugene in the direction of whatever supplies he needed. _Scissors._ Or in the direction of whichever one of the men needed his attention but was doing his best to hide it. _Joe Toye._ Whatever it had been, Eugene was slowly realising that Smokey had been his friend.  
  
And now, it seems that perhaps Heffron is his friend too. Babe - who looks out for Eugene in his own way, who volunteered to accompany Spina on a pointless trek through the forest to try to find morphine and other supplies Eugene so desperately needed. Who tries to ensure Eugene is eating, taking care of himself. Who hauled Eugene out of his foxhole last night when Welsh was hit and Winters was yelling. And who had ended up with an injured hand, thanks to Eugene.  
  
"Babe," Heffron drawls, a poor imitation of Eugene's accent.  
  
Eugene scowls, "Heffron, watch the goddamn line." He almost growls the words. But he's biting down on the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from laughing. Trying to prevent Heffron - Babe - from seeing his smile.  
  
But Babe can see the smile threatening to break free anyway and laughs, a high-pitched, almost-giggle sort of laugh and Eugene bites down on his cheek harder.  
  
When Eugene finishes bandaging his hand, Babe shifts a little closer and Eugene feels heat radiating from the man. It's been a while since Eugene shared a foxhole with someone else, not since Dike forbade him and Spina from sharing. _Can't have two medics in one hole._ Eugene allows himself to press closer to Heffron, to lean in a little. He's tempted to rest his head on Heffron's shoulder to try to get some sleep, but it's already morning. The sun is rising and Eugene needs to check how the men fared overnight, and it won’t be long before someone is along to relieve Heffron from his duty in the OP.  
  
As though reading his thoughts, Heffron slings an arm around Eugene's shoulder and tugs him closer, "It's still my watch for another hour or so, Gene. Get some sleep."


End file.
